cat detective

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Sherlock Herms in… Rejected!
2
A Weekend of Skullduggery
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Sherlock Herms in Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost – The Conclusion
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Sherlock Herms in Mrs Shallowford’s Ghost – Part 5
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Sherlock Herms in Mrs Shallowford’s Ghost – Part 4
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Sherlock Herms in Mrs Shallowford’s Ghost – Part 3
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Sherlock Herms in Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost – Part 2
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Sherlock Herms in Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost
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Sherlock Herms: In-Between Cases 1 and 2 – Part 2
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Sherlock Herms: In-Between Cases 1 and 2

Sherlock Herms in… Rejected!

Cover for Rejected
I held the copy of my letter in my paws. What did I do wrong?

I’d started over eight times. Mom always says first impressions are lasting impressions. I’d wanted my letter to be purrfect. I’d hoped that if he liked what I wrote, he would want to meet me in purrrson. Maybe even solve a case with me.

Dear Mr. Holmes,

I wanted to introduce myself since we are in the same business of detecting stuff. I am Sherlock Herms of the Wonderpurr Detective Agency. I have one assistant, like you do with Watson…only my assistant is my little sisfur, Dori. I don’t suppose you’ve ever had to take your little sisfur on a caper. Anyway! We just solved our first case. It had ghosts that needed to be busted. We were paid two huge quarters. Have you ever solved a case with ghosts? Just wondering. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.

I’m a huge fan of yours. I watched one of your hissstorical doc-mew-mentaries last night on teevee to pick up tips on solving cases. Maybe someday when I get real good at solving cases myself, you and me could maybe get together… Discuss stuff. Or maybe not if you’re real busy. You probably are, so…

Maybe if you have an extra picture of yourself lying around, you could pawtograph it for me. I would hang it over my desk and look at it all the time for inspurration. But if you don’t have time to have your picture taken…or don’t want to just because… I understand.

Countless weeks had passed since I’d mailed my fan letter business correspondence to my hero. Sherlock Holmes had to be back from his case by now. He had to have gone through his stack of mail. He had to have seen my letter. Unless the mail carrier had gone postal and flung my letter into the River Thames…there was only one conclusion: I’d been rejected. Rejected by my hero. Read More

A Weekend of Skullduggery

TattleCat Chat LogoWell, it was a wonderpurr weekend at my house, the place where I live.

Actually, I didn’t spend my weekend at my house. I spent it cooped up in a hotel suite. And…it actually wasn’t very wonderpurr.

This is what happened:

My mom and her friend, Aunt Linda, went to a mystery writers conference and brought me along cuz… Cuz Dad was in charge back at the house and Mom didn’t think he could hack taking care of all of the Wonderpurr Gang, plus the raccoons, plus give me my special diet noms and health supplements.

Besides, why would my author mom leave me, her mews, at home when she’s going to a writers conference?

The thing was… This was a writers conference. Not Blogpaws. And troofully, I wasn’t supposed to be in the hotel cuz of the rule where they used to allow pets but then changed their minds. What the Friskies! How rude!

We packed up the Land Yacht on Thursday and headed out with me riding in either Mom’s lap or Aunt Linda’s. I had my commode and bed in the back, plus Dori packed me a box of refreshments to nom. It was nearing dark when we arrived at the hotel. Usually I jump into my Ride and zoom through the front door, but this time Mom informed me a little skullduggery would be involved. Since I’m now a hardboiled detective with grit in his blood, this sounded right up my alley.

After checking in at the front desk, Mom and Aunt Linda grabbed a baggage cart and brought it out to where I was manning the getaway car. My litter box was disguised as a huge black trash bag. So was my pet stairs. The rest was either in suitcases or moving boxes. After everything was placed on the cart, I was loaded into a pink pet carrier that resembled a duffel bag and set on the top, looking like an ordinary piece of luggage. This is when the excitement started.

The cart was possessed by a demon. I know it was cuz I’m not only a hardboiled detective with grit in my blood, but I’m also a purranormal investigator. I know about ghosts and demons and stuff.

Anyway, that demon jerked the cart to the right and to the left. No matter how hard Mom and Aunt Linda tried to steer it straight, the cart had other ideas. Meanwhile, I’m inside the pink duffel bag getting ready to urp my last meal.

Finally, we got into the elevator and rode up to our floor. Thank Cat the other guests were busy fooling around in their rooms or drinking in the bar. Nobody saw nuffin!

Once inside the room, I was released from my duffel bag and my litter box and refreshment stand was set up. I got a nice bed on the couch. And that’s where my excitement ended.

After Aunt Linda put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door, Mom turned on the teevee to the Summer Olympics for me to watch while they were at the workshops. With nothing else to do besides pee and poop and eat…I slept. B-O-R-R-R-I-N-G. Sorry, but the only sport I found remotely inpurresting was when the girls waved ribbons on a stick. Otherwise, it was a total snoozefest.

Herman in hotel suite

I wasn’t even allowed to patrol the halls, like I usually do at Blogpaws. And when it came time to eat, I had to deal with leftovers. I tried to find the phone to order room service, but my mom is a sneaky pete and hid it on me. So I had to pretend like I was grateful for the cold greasy bacon and the French dip without the dip she brought me.

I guess more than being disgusted with the teevee programming, no room service, and not getting to zoom the halls…I was pretty ticked off about not going to the conference. These were my hoomons! Mystery writers. Hardboiled crime detective writers. I wanted to rub elbows with them. I wanted to sidled up to the bar with the big names and toss back a few shots of purrbon on ice, looking all brooding and mysterious.

Prefer claws

But no. I was treated like an ordinary cat. And we all know there is nothing ordinary about me.

After three very loooong days, I was sprung from my luxury prison. The idea was to grab a luggage cart, load it up like when we arrived, and run out to the getaway car. However, when my mom and aunt discovered that the hotel bellhops wouldn’t let the luggage carts out of their sight cuz…tips… Plan B was put into action.

Plan B went like this:

It was a dark and stormy morning. The sky was pitch black and the rain came down sideways in sheets. Great time to leave the hotel, eh? My hoomons packed everything up, including disguising my commode and pet stairs in their huge black trash bag costumes and sweeping the rug of litter crumbs. They even bagged their trash since maid service had not been welcomed since we arrived. When the room looked pretty spiffy, Mom loaded me into my pink duffel bag, and Aunt Linda grabbed my pet stairs, and we headed out for the Land Yacht. But…when we got to the elevator, it was pretty crowded. We squeezed in so as to not look suspicious, although I overheard Aunt Linda tell Mom that one of the men in the back kept eyeing the pink duffel.

Just between you and me, I’d pawed a zipper open so I could see out with one eye…

Upon reaching the first floor, we hustled out the side door into the storm. The parking lot puddles splashed around my hoomon’s ankles while I snuggled high and dry in the duffel. I was dumped like a sack full of dirty laundry in the back. Mom jumped into the driver’s seat while Aunt Linda ran back to get the bellhop. She took him up to the room to load up, while we pulled around to the entrance. After our stuff was loaded into the back, we pulled away, then parked around the corner so I could be released from my pink prison and my commode could be released from its trash bag disguise.

We rode home without much ado. Life is like that. A lot of prep work and run around…then nuffin.

Anyway, I didn’t get much out of the conference, but my mom got to meet her author idol, Janet Brockovich. Um… Erin Evanovich? Whatever! I didn’t get to meet her, so I’m not impressed.

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Do you ever travel with your hoomons? Have you ever been sneaked into a hotel? Details! I want details! Thank you so much for stopping by. Please remember to come back on Friday. Friday is Sherlock Herms Day!

Purrs! Herman!!!

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Sherlock Herms in Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost – The Conclusion

Previously on Sherlock Herms – The Case of Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost Mrs Shallowford's Ghost

After watching Dori make her singing debut at The Desert Galaxy nightclub, Herman wakes up to realize he’s had a bad dream. Not that Dori’s singing was terrible, but that he was inside the almost famous detective Max Shallowford’s body, and the mobster Sammy ‘The Squid’ Calamari was expecting him to shoot another mobster.

Upon waking, Herman finds himself back in his attic office seventy years in the past. And seated across from him is Charley Feeble, a ghost. Charley tells him he is the real Max Shallowford, but has a pathological form of shyness. Because he feared meeting his clients in person, he hired an out of work actor from Ecum Secum, Nova Scotia to pretend to be Max Shallowford.

The actor was really good. Too good. He fooled everyone, including Charley, by taking over and getting involved with the mob. That landed him in trouble and he ended up disappearing, along with the mobster’s money and his girlfriend. The Squid was more upset about the money than the girlfriend.

The actor also married a showgirl by the name of Vivian who was responsible for scaring Charley to death. He tells Herman, “I called you, Sherlock Herms, to retrieve the missing jewelry so Vivian will stop screaming. She still frightens me, even though I’m dead. However, I now realize that if I can get her to step outside of my house, I may have a way to prevent her from reentering. That’s why I needed you, Herman. I need you to help me get rid of Vivian Shallowford.”

And now…The Conclusion.

SHERLOCK HERMS DIVIDER

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Sherlock Herms in Mrs Shallowford’s Ghost – Part 5

Previously on Sherlock Herms – The Case of Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost Mrs Shallowford's Ghost

After Sherlock Herms enjoys a play break with his sisfur-slash-assistant, Detective Dori, he falls asleep and dreams he’s at the Desert Galaxy casino, seated at a table with Loud Lady and her Not Friend, Elouise. They are joined by the notorious gangster, Sammy ‘The Squid’ Calamari, who was rumored to be responsible for the mysterious disappearance of the almost famous hardboiled detective Maxwell Shallowford.

Just as Herman realizes he’s not a cat in his dream, but rather inside Max Shallowford’s body, The Squid gives him a briefcase filled with thousands of dollars. He tells Herman-slash-Max that he is to ‘plug’ another gangster by the name of Lenny the Loser.

Herman is quietly freaking in his navy pinstripe suit pants and his two tone shoes when he notices a man at the next table, glowing. Yup. Glowing like the sun is shining brightly down on top of his balding head. He tells Herman not to be afraid, and introduces himself. He’s Charles Feeble. Dori’s Charley! He also tells Herman, in order for him to understand what happened to Max Shallowford, he is experiencing a memory from the detective’s life. Herman wants to know who he is. Herman has many questions, but Charley tells him…

“That’s not important right now. When you awake, I will explain. But for now, let’s enjoy the show. Shall we?” He abruptly stood up to applaud, along with Sammy Calamari and the rest of the people at the nightclub.

“And now,” a voice said over a loud speaker, “please welcome to the Desert Galaxy… Miss Adora Purr singing her new hit song, Purrple Underpants!”

Herman swings his gaze to the bandstand where he sees his little sisfur step on stage.

What the Friskies!

And now…Part 5.

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Sherlock Herms in Mrs Shallowford’s Ghost – Part 4

Previously on Sherlock Herms – The Case of Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost

Mrs Shallowford's GhostWhen Loud Lady’s friend Elouise (who is really not her friend because she rolls her eyes behind her back) arrives carrying a big purse, Sherlock Herms watches from the stairs as Elouise pours liquor and pills into Loud Lady. Then, while Loud Lady slips into a drunken stupor, Elouise sweeps through the house, putting stuff in her big purse, including the Persian cats, and money from the safe.

At least Herman now knows why the Persians had him pee in a potted plant. Their litter boxes were toxic from not being emptied for a very long time. As Elouise prepares to leave, the new housekeeper arrives, and Elouise gives her the order to get rid of the litter boxes. While the housekeeper goes to work, Herman returns to the room that would be his mom’s author office seventy years in the future, but is currently a man’s lounging room in the past. He wants to see if his assistant-slash-sisfur, Dori, is in the attic that would be his detective office in the future. But when he goes to the door, he is shocked at what he finds.

And now…Part 4.

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Sherlock Herms in Mrs Shallowford’s Ghost – Part 3

Previously on Sherlock Herms – The Case of Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost Mrs Shallowford's Ghost

After the kitty play tunnel-slash-trans-portal energy gate transports Sherlock Herms and Dori, his sasspuss sisfur-slash-assistant, to their own home seventy years in the past, Dori scampers off to chat with Charley, the person who hired them to find missing jewelry, leaving Herman to conduct his investigation alone.

Abruptly in need of a litter box, Herman panics when he is unable to find one, only to be rescued by two expensive Persians who give him permission to widdle in a potted plant instead of a litter box. He finds that odd, but is desperate. Once refreshed, he interviews the Persians, hoping to learn if they know what happened to the jewelry. However, they avoid answering his questions which makes him suspicious.

Then the doorbell rings, causing the Persians to flee, leaving Herman with unanswered questions.

And now…Part 3.

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Sherlock Herms in Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost – Part 2

Previously on Sherlock Herms – The Case of Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost Mrs Shallowford's Ghost

When Herman’s 1940s black Bakelite phone summons him to his second case, he again climbs inside his Ride – a tricked out Gen7Pets Regal stroller – and is sucked into the kitty play tunnel-slash-trans-portal energy gate to travel back to the 1940s.

Herman expects to arrive at a strange house like he did on his first case, The Case of the Dancing Ghosts. And he does! Except the strange house is his own home, seventy years in the past. It looks nothing like the house he lives in with his mom, dad and eleventy-billion fursibs.

He’s freaked about the changes, but his detective assistant-slash-sisfur, Dori, isn’t. She isn’t even surprised when a loud screechy lady with painted eye brows answers the door and tells them they can find her missing jewelry, but she won’t pay them to find it. Dori is okay with that. She tells Herman it wasn’t Painted Eye Brow Lady who hired them. It was Charley.

Who Charley is Herman has no idea. He also has no idea what’s going on with his sweet little sisfur who is acting like she’s the hardboiled detective with grit in her blood, and he’s her meek little detective assistant.

And now…Part 2.

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Sherlock Herms in Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost

Mrs Shallowford's Ghost

My name is Sherlock Herms. It is my business to know what others don’t know. At least that’s what I hoped for once I got more experience as a private investigator. I had just completed my first job, The Case of the Dancing Ghosts, and was now on my way to my second case.

Dori and I huddled together with our paws over our ears to block the wind-whooshing sound created by my Ride—a mint chip colored Gen7Pets Regal stroller—as it zoomed through the kitty play tunnel-slash-trans-portal energy gate.

I deliberately kept my back to the control panel to keep from staring at it. The dazzling display of button lights captivated me unlike catnip or any feathery toy, but the control panel hated to be stared at. It was kinda scary.

Stop StaringI also blocked Dori from touching the panel. She had a thing about a particular pink button that would delay us from reaching our destination by ten days per push. On my first case we should have arrived in June, but because Dori pawed it repeatedly, we didn’t arrive until May—nearly a year later! Dori forgot to bring her treats, and our client refused to feed us, and Dori got so starvy, she became sick. Which reminded me… Read More

Sherlock Herms: In-Between Cases 1 and 2 – Part 2

Previously on Sherlock Herms… In-Between Cases 1 & 2…

When we last left our hero, Herman TattleCat – the dashing hardboiled detective with grit in his blood – he had just sent a fan letter business correspondence to his hero, Sherlock Holmes, asking for tips on solving cases (and maybe an autographed photo if Holmes wasn’t too busy) when his sisfur/assistant, the beautiful but trash-basket-rooting Adorapurr aka Dori, showed him a book about the basics of ghost hunting. There were rules to be followed…like getting purrmission to investigate a haunted house instead of barging in and just doing it. Also, there were rules about wearing the proper clothing, like scarves and shoes. However, as neither Herman or Dori wear scarves, and they can’t zoom in shoes, they decide to wing it like they did on their first case.

Then the phone rings, and they are hired for their second case!

And now…In-Between Cases – Part 2

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Sherlock Herms: In-Between Cases 1 and 2

In Between Cases PromoMom? Could I have a refill?” I stood in the doorway of my Wonderpurr Detective Agency, holding my cup. My mom has a coffee bar set up in the corner of her author-office. I’m just starting out so I can’t afford my own, yet.

Hi, I’m Sherlock Herms, a hardboiled detective with grit in my blood. I’d just solved my first paying mystery—the Case of the Dancing Ghosts—two days ago, and I was anxious to solve another. My mom wants to write mysteries, and since I’m her mews, I decided to open my own detective agency so I could learn about solving crimes.

Mom looked up from paying bills. She doesn’t like to pay bills on her author computer…says the financial mojo messes with her creative mojo, but there is no way around it. The old computer has retired due to Microsoft no longer supporting Windows XP. I have no idea what that means…nor do I care. I just wanted more coffee.

“What did you do with the last cup?” she asked. “You didn’t drink it, did you? Coffee will stunt your growth.”

Herman with coffee

“No, I just like how it smells in my office.” Truthfully, I didn’t. But us detectives drink a lot of coffee. I read that somewhere. Read More

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